Carry Me Out

HOME

I'd lie awake with lights turned on
And gaze at the white ceiling and think,
Think about my mother. How I feel
Disappointed at myself for being this weak,
I'd stare at the window towards my feet,
And anticipate for a hand to pull me.
I'd lie awake with warmth springing
And push my body next to the white wall
And sleep; sleep with coldness warming me.
The house I live in is not my house,
College was a torment phase of time,
The house I live in is closed with walls, thick
White walls that traps the warmth inside it,
Making me exhaust despite immobility.
I loved the feeling of homesickness, to yearn
For touch and voices I've heard growing up.
To look at the faces I saw waking up. To
Sing in a room I bathe, to sleep in a room I sit,
To eat in a room I sleep. The walls of my
Home was beautiful and comforting—
The wooden walls, and bamboo posts
And roughly dried cements as floors,
The thin sheet tin as roofs and those
Recycled sheet of tarpaulines
That keeps the rain from entering
The home where I love to live in.
I miss my siblings, loud and rowdy
Oh to see them play and shout.
I miss the home I lived in, for it comforted me
In spite of rain and thunder. I miss my
Home I never want to leave it
Though it lives already in my heart.